by Pete Carroll
If it was a home game, we’d have a pep rally in Heritage Hall after Friday’s practice. It would be a relatively intimate setting, with the band, Song Girls, alumni, and fans in a room filled with championship plaques and Heisman Trophies. After a variety of songs, one of our assistants would climb up on a ladder and deliver a speech to the crowd. It was fun for our coaches because they got to deliver an inspirational message. More often than not it was something we had talked about in the staff room during the week. Always passionate and speaking from the heart, the coaches did a great job every week setting the tone for the pep rally. Following a few more songs, a senior player was called up to deliver a speech. This was always special, and I tried to make sure that each senior got an opportunity to speak to the crowd. For those players, our pep rally served as not only a fond memory but also an opportunity to become closer to the past Trojans who had stood on that same platform. This was something I always looked forward to and had a blast with and will surely miss in the NFL.
Following the pep rally, we would head to the team hotel in downtown Los Angeles. If it was an away game we would race from the practice field to the Los Angeles International Airport for an afternoon flight. Either way, we were in full pregame mode, with the special teams meeting that night at 7:30 P.M., offensive and defensive meetings after that, and finally a team meeting where I addressed the squad one last time before snack and bed check.
The point of everything that we did during the week and on Friday night was to get our players to a mental place where they knew they were going to win and to get them to believe that they did not have to do anything special once the ball was snapped. They only needed to trust their preparation and, as we said around USC, “let it rip.” It was my responsibility to prove to them that they had earned the right to enjoy every moment of game day. All they needed to do was just go out and have fun playing football. In Seattle, we’ll be playing our best football when that same confidence is acquired by our Seahawk players, and they can truly revel in playing the game they have known since they were kids. What better venue to perform in than Qwest Field, where the fans are among the loudest in the NFL.
The Howard Jones Practice Field at USC was where our players established their sense of themselves as individuals, as members of their position groups, as members of our offense or defense, and ultimately as part of the team as a whole. We used practice as an opportunity to cultivate both competition and cohesion at every level of the organization. Far from viewing it as a prelude to the main event on game day, our staff treated every practice as an individual event in and of itself, and we will do the same thing with the Seahawks.
As a football program, practice played a unique role for us that may not translate directly to the concerns of the rest of the world, but I believe that there are elements of our approach that can benefit anyone. There is no replacement for hard work and nothing that can take the place of competition.
15
FOURTH AND NINE
One of the aspects of our USC program that drew a lot of comments from the media was that on most days we opened our practices to the public. This is a policy that will continue during training camp in Seattle.
In the often paranoid, guarded world of high-level football, the inner workings of most teams are treated more like government secrets than public spectacles, but to me opening up our practices was a clear outgrowth of our “relentless pursuit of a competitive edge.”
Having a crowd watch us practice was just one more way of helping our guys to prepare. Spectators are just another variable in the game. Players need to focus, no matter what is going on around them. We competed in front of an audience in our games, so why not practice in front of one? I never wanted to miss a single opportunity to simulate gamelike situations during practice. We wanted to do everything in our power to avoid encountering anything for the first time during a game. Many teams will set up speakers blasting the sounds of a packed stadium crowd, and we did that as well when preparing for games on the road. But there’s something special about having real people there.
Having a crowd at practice served us better than keeping the environment quiet. Granted, it wasn’t like having ninety thousand fans in the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum on game day, but it still felt like we were performing—especially when there was a big turnout. There was nothing better than an afternoon on Howard Jones Practice Field with the Trojan faithful on the sideline, with Art Bartner leading the Spirit of Troy marching band on an adjacent field. The energy was awesome and the atmosphere was festive, a fun exhibition of college football.
More often than not, we would have hundreds of people watching practice the week before a big game, and since we were in Los Angeles, sometimes that crowd would include a celebrity or two. I loved to have fun with our visitors whenever I could. It was a way of elevating and motivating our players to compete and perform to their fullest, instead of treating it as just another day running plays. We wanted to create a special environment that would enhance our performance.
This cut both ways, of course—although not necessarily in the way you might think. Just as in a real game, sometimes we would have a practice where for one reason or another we simply weren’t functioning the way we should. Everyone has days like that, and we were no exception. Just as in a real game, the audience was going to see that, and our players were going to have to figure out how to deal with it. When we had a practice like that, it would have been easy to worry that having an audience might further shake our confidence and throw off our game even more. But I didn’t see it that way.
Other people might have worried: There are reporters out there—what are they going to write about us tomorrow? Will it shake us even more? Will it give our opponents an edge on game day? But this couldn’t be further from our attitude. What the coaches and I were seeing was a unique and fantastic teachable moment. We would not only acknowledge it, but we would embrace it to the point where we would call as much attention to the situation as we possibly could. If a practice was going wrong for some reason, I would call a simulated halftime and take the whole team off the field right there in front of everyone.
When we left the field, we’d create a mock locker room atmosphere. We’d get the team together and tell them to imagine that we were down 21-7 and that we needed to get “right” so we could go back out there and regain control of the game. Suddenly, a mediocre practice became a unique opportunity to learn how to remedy a poor performance. Far from embarrassing us, having that crowd there to see whether or not we could pull it off only made the moment that much more authentic, and the teachable moment that much more effective.
By making our practices competitive, by making the most of teachable moments, and by creating a stadium-like atmosphere, our players definitely felt more comfortable in real game situations. We couldn’t have been more prepared, as we headed to South Bend, Indiana, to face Notre Dame, in what would become an epic game during the 2005 season. Both teams battled throughout the contest with the lead changing hands several times. Well into the third quarter, the outcome was still undecided and the atmosphere was electric, primed for the fourth quarter.
It is the game’s final moments that are best remembered, but before either team took the field it was clear that the stage was set for a formidable battle between two great football teams. It was a classic USC-Notre Dame matchup. Our squad entered the game riding a twenty-seven-game winning streak, while Notre Dame was poised to end that streak with a victory that would validate Charlie Weis, their new head coach, as the real deal. We were playing at South Bend, and 80,795 Notre Dame fans had turned out with the intention to witness the moment when things turned around for their program. Notre Dame had done a fantastic job of riling their fans, pulling out all the stops by bringing in alums like Joe Montana and other past Irish greats to get them fired up. They even took the field in their trademark good-luck green jerseys. The atmosphere was awesome!
With 2:02 left in the game, it looked like they
were going to get their wish when Notre Dame quarterback Brady Quinn dashed around our defensive end for a five-yard touchdown, to put them ahead 31-28. We took the ensuing kickoff back to our twenty-four-yard line, needing a field goal to tie, or a touchdown to win, and we only had 1:58 remaining on the clock.
The crowd was going absolutely berserk as our offense took the field. They were as loud as a jam-packed stadium could be, and when we threw an incomplete on the first play, they got even louder. Matt was sacked for a nine-yard loss on second down and I can honestly say the place was as loud as any stadium I had ever been in. On third and nineteen, if there had been a noise meter, I think it would have shattered.
We called a time-out and told Matt that we only needed to get half of the yardage back, knowing we would go for it on fourth down. We called an option route for Reggie Bush and he gained ten yards. That route, which Matt had thrown to Reggie countless times in practice, got us to fourth and nine at our own twenty-five-yard line. With 1:32 left on the clock we called our final time-out. We decided on a play that would hit tight end Dominique Byrd for a first down. The offensive coaches reminded Matt to be ready for the blitz. If the Irish lined up for a blitz, he would have to change the play.
Matt went back in the huddle to call the play. It was fourth down and Notre Dame was one play away from upsetting USC. The crowd was hostile, and as our team broke the huddle, the stadium got louder. Matt got under center and scanned the defense, seeking the one key that would force him to audible. As luck would have it, the Irish gave him the blitz look. Suddenly, in the most demanding environment you could possibly imagine, Matt had to call the audible and change not only the play but the entire pass protection and the receivers’ routes. Matt barked out his cadence as the linemen relayed the audible. “Red 82 Stay, Red 82 Stay,” yelled Matt, then “Go!” as he took the snap. This is a moment worth fully comprehending—if any of the ten other players failed to hear the audible that changed the play, the game might have been over. Near flawless execution was necessary for us to have a chance to get a first down and extend the game.
With the defense blitzing, Matt calmly took his five-step drop, as he had done countless times in practice, and lofted a picture-perfect pass down the left sideline to Dwayne Jarrett. As if in slow motion, somehow the ball found its way past the outstretched arms of a Notre Dame defender and into Dwayne’s. All of a sudden, there was silence in Notre Dame Stadium as Dwayne sprinted down the sideline with only the goal line in front of him. It was one of the most exhilarating moments I’ve ever felt on a football field. Considering the circumstances, this was a historic play, but very simply, what actually occurred was a result of our preparation, which allowed every player to perform brilliantly under the most pressure-filled situation imaginable.
It looked like Dwayne was going to run for a touchtown, which would have put us ahead, but Notre Dame’s cornerback managed a desperate dive, catching him by the heel and bringing him down on the thirteen-yard line. That fourth down play, in the most difficult of circumstances and with so much at stake, will always stick in my mind as a perfect illustration of our preparation and execution.
Still down 31-28, we were now in field-goal range, so it was all about clock management. With a little over a minute remaining, we called a pass to Steve Smith that fell incomplete. Consecutive runs by Reggie Bush brought us to the two-yard line with no time-outs and the clock quickly ticking down, 0:19, 0:18, 0:17, 0:16, 0:15.
We called for an empty backfield, as we had no choice but to throw into the end zone, either to score or stop the clock. As Matt dropped back, he could not find an open receiver, so he scrambled to his left, still scanning the field. He decided to tuck the ball and leap for the end zone, but as he got hit in midair, he fumbled the ball. An alert sideline official stopped the clock determining that the ball had gone out of bounds, leaving just seconds on the clock.
In the ensuing pandemonium, the Notre Dame players, coaches, fans, and scoreboard operator did not recognize that Matt had fumbled the ball and watched as the clock ticked down to zero. In unison, the players, coaches, alumni, and fans all rushed the field thinking they had just ended our winning streak. A member of the officiating crew quickly informed me that the clock had stopped with seven seconds remaining, and I knew that we had another chance at the end zone.
After the officials cleared the field, our players got into their huddle. During the mayhem I was on the headset talking to coaches Lane Kiffin in the booth and Steve Sarkisian on the sideline, along with Matt. We decided to go for the touchdown instead of spiking the ball to stop the clock. We chose to run a quarterback sneak, a play we ran every Friday in practice. With fellow soon-to-be Heisman Trophy winner Reggie Bush to his left, Matt tucked under center. Matt would be the first to admit that Notre Dame’s defensive line was stacked right in front of him, and he even peeked back at Reggie as if to say, “What do you think?” Reggie gave him a nod that said, “You got this,” and Matt turned back under center. He took the snap and followed his center and fellow captain, Ryan Kalil, toward the goal line. Initially blocked, he spun to his left, and with an ever-so-slight nudge from Reggie, his six-foot-five frame found the end zone, sealing the victory in dramatic fashion.
No writer could have scripted a more compelling series of events for that game. It’s the kind of game that, as a football coach, you live for. That matchup has been called “a game for the ages” and would have been a great day for college football whatever the outcome, though obviously we were happy seizing the win, 34-31, as well as holding on to our streak.
Yet while that final touchdown is perhaps the most famous play of that game, my favorite highlight is the moment when, on fourth and nine, Matt called the audible and our team reacted perfectly, as one. We had checked to “Red 82 Stay” countless times in practice, preparing for a situation precisely like fourth and nine. It was an instance of extraordinary poise, the best possible representation of all we had worked to create over the course of hundreds of competitive repetitions in practice. It was a moment that I hoped Coach Walsh would be proud of, a perfect example of the contingency planning he had shared with me back in San Francisco.
The poise and precision our guys showed that day was the strongest verification of our belief that “Practice Is Everything.” Our practices were where we made ourselves into the team we needed to be. It was by practicing that we developed our ability to perform regardless of the circumstances.
Was there a downside to our open-practice policy? Were we giving up anything in return for a dynamic, competitive, and productive environment we created by keeping our practices open? Not much, in my opinion. Our opponents already had access to our game film, so we were not worried about giving anything away.
Open practices also gave us opportunities to connect with our fans. I remember as a young person waiting to get an autograph or to meet one of my heroes in person after a game. Now, being on the other side of that encounter, I always make an effort to live up to the obligation those memories represent. Whether they were coming from far away or right down the street, the kids who came to our practices were getting the opportunity to see what a realized dream looks like. And that sense of connection to the community around us was something we took very seriously. Believe it or not, many years earlier, Keyshawn Johnson, a Trojan and NFL wide receiver, was one of those grade-school kids who used to hang around practice at USC.
Like many teams, we would schedule visits for community groups, youth sports teams, local businesses, and other organizations. There was always something special about knowing we were open to anyone who cared enough about us to stop by.
Offering that experience wasn’t why we started having open practices, but once we came to understand what a chance it gave us to share something special with our fans, the idea of not doing it became almost unthinkable.
The presence of fans also gave us an opportunity to teach the players about off-the-field behavior. The quarterbacks were surrounded by autograph seeker
s before they were even off the field, as were many other players. We all made a point of trying to make sure we didn’t disappoint them. It was a great opportunity for our players to connect with the responsibility of being role models and to interact with their fans.
Obviously, football teams have secrets. I am as careful about guarding our playbooks and prospect evaluations as corporate executives are in guarding their portfolios or client lists, or as you are in guarding your Social Security and credit card numbers. And even though we had open practices, we did have certain restrictions on filming or photographing. We caught people trying to do it from distant buildings from time to time, and on the road we had to be on the lookout for that as well. Just because we were open didn’t mean we were foolish. But that’s all small stuff compared to the benefits we got from having a crowd on hand to watch us practice.
16
OUR RECRUITING PROMISE
At USC, we were very sensitive about making typical hard-sell promises to our recruits. So we promised them one thing: an extraordinary opportunity to compete for a position from the moment they arrived on our campus. In my nine years at USC we had freshmen starting at every position, including quarterback. As far as I know, no other team in college football has done that. I cannot overstate what an advantage it gave us. Our veteran players knew that if they did not compete to their fullest at all times there was nothing to keep a young guy from taking their place. And for the recruits, knowing they had the opportunity to compete from day one made them work harder, smarter, and with more ambition. We conveyed our expectation that every incoming player had the chance to start in his first year. That wasn’t just a promise; we expected it.
The competitive opportunities proved to be an incredibly powerful recruiting tool. However, we didn’t have this policy just to attract recruits. We discovered that by setting these high expectations and using supporting, consistent language, we could enable a freshman to contribute immediately.